Waiting
by Onesimus42
Summary: A post Falling Darkness ficlet


_**An after the credits for Falling Darkness. I always wondered what blowing away the cobwebs meant.**_

_**Disclaimer: Not owned by me. I earn nothing from them but sleepless nights.**_

He waited. He was used to that. She had to finish. Speak to the vicar. Say good-bye to her friend. His eyes narrowed and his shoulders tensed, ready to jump to her defense, when that man approached her. He relaxed as he read her body language; the way she pulled away, the slight shake of her head. Then she was returning to him. He didn't wait for her to reach him but took a step forward to meet her. He met her eyes, gave her his most comforting smile.

"Care for a drink?" he asked, "Blow away the cobwebs."

She nodded, and they started down the path together. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep himself for reaching for hers. Too soon for that. She needed time. He would wait. Then she surprised him by tucking her hand through his elbow. Maybe he wouldn't have to wait.

The bare minimum of words passed between them to get to their destination. He nodded toward the street they needed to take. They spoke more with touches and gestures. She tightened her hold on his arm to make him slow his pace. He placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her toward a shortcut. She gave him a lopsided smile that he knew meant she didn't think it was a shortcut at all. He grimaced to show that he acknowledged her point.

Once they were seated and sipping on their beers, he decided there were a few things that needed to be said. Waiting was all well and good, but there was something to be said for beginning as well.

He couldn't look at her directly, so he fixed his gaze out the window, "Nice beer."

He could feel her eyes on his face and hear the half smile in her voice, "The beer's always good here. That's why we come."

He turned to look at her seriously, "Well, yes, I know that." He smiled and then spoke about more than just the beer, "But sometimes you really have to know, even if you know, sometimes especially if you know, if you know what I mean."

She watched him for a long moment and took another sip of her beer. She nodded and smiled fully, "I believe I do. Know what you mean, I mean. Thank you for that, Robbie."

"Thank you, Laura," he met her eyes very seriously and then dropped his gaze to the table. This was too much. He needed to wait. Once again he reminded himself that he was good at waiting.

There was another silence, slightly less comfortable than their previous one. They sipped their beers. Finally another he set his glass down a little harder and broached the next subject. "Alec."

She sighed, "Yes, Alec."

He lifted his head from his study of the table and said with no hint of condemnation, "You loved him. I bet all the girls did. He's the dangerous sort. All girls love that."

"I did love him," she sighed, "I did many stupid things when I was in my twenties. Stayed up late and ate far too much chocolate. Ran around the quad in my trainers and gown. Got a tattoo. Was attracted to bad boys. Used far too much hairspray…. My friends and I are probably solely responsible for the hole in the ozone layer."

"You?" he asked in surprise, "Used too much hairspray? I'll never believe it."

"Oh you should believe it Robbie," she said with mock seriousness, "Hair strait up in the air and stiff as a board. I have pictures."

He laughed, took another sip of beer and then spoke to the table again, "You aren't still?"

"Using too much hairspray? Of course not. Why do you think I've cut it so short?" she said lightly.

"No, I mean attracted to…" he trailed off and then held his breath as he waited for her answer.

"No, I'm not," she said, "Now I find a very different type of man attractive."

"Ahh," he nodded, meeting her eyes for a moment, and then asked casually, "And just what sort of man do you, um, find attractive?"

"Steady," she said, keeping her eyes on him, "Loyal, dependable, someone who'll always be there to save me."

Now he met her eyes steadily. Her hand was resting on the table and his hand couldn't resist covering it, squeezing gently. She returned the squeeze but now it was her eyes that dropped to study the table.

He kept his hand on hers, but thought it might be time to wait again. Just for a little while. He asked lightly, "What sort of tattoo?"

"Hmm?" she seemed distracted, "Oh, I'll never tell. You'll have to use your best detective skills to find out."

He grinned and lifted his eyebrows, back to a bit of teasing. This was more comfortable, easier. He could do this, "Don't think I can't. First, though, I want proof about this hairspray business."

"You can come back to my house and see the photographs," she said lightly at first and then a shadow crossed her face.

"I have a better idea," he said, "Why don't we fetch the photographs from your house and then go back to my flat? I have clean dishes, and we can get take away."

She laughed wholeheartedly now and he looked at her in puzzlement, "What?"

"That's the best pick-up line I've ever heard 'I have clean dishes'," she was smiling at him broadly, "Do you use that on all the women?"

"Only one," he said seriously, standing to his feet and holding out his hand to her. Waiting.

He didn't have to wait for long.

_**Reviews are welcome as always.**_


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